(I am tending to my customers’ needs, and watching the front door. A customer enters and asks for a table. I seat him and get him a cup of coffee.)

Customer: “How far is it to Quebec?”

Me: “I honestly have no idea, sir. But, if you don’t mind my asking, why are you heading there?”

Customer: “Well, I have to be at work by tomorrow, and I’m sure I would have made it if the tire hadn’t come off my truck.”

(He looks over the menu, orders, and receives his meal. As I am putting in another order on the computer, the father of the family seated at the table beside the other man approaches me.)

Father: “Excuse me?”

Me: “Yes, sir? Is there something I can help you with?”

Father: “Has the man beside us ordered yet?”

(The customer with the car problems is clearly of East Indian descent, and I immediately fear that this other man is about to make some racist comment.)

Me: “Is there some kind of problem, sir?”

Father: “No, not at all. But I was wondering if you wouldn’t mind putting his dinner on our bill.”

(I am pleasantly surprised by this, and get into the computer to add the unfortunate customer’s check to the families. The family leaves soon after. When I next check on the customer, he has finished eating.)

Me: “Is there anything else I can do for you tonight, sir?”

Customer: “No, I’m fine, thanks. Just the bill, if you please.”

Me: “Well, sir, I’m pleased to say that the family seated beside you earlier asked to pick up your bill.”

Customer: “Did they really?”

Me:*smiling* “Yes.”

Customer:*smiling* “You know, it really makes me glad to know that there are still good, kind people in the world. It gives you hope.”

(Not having anything else to do, I take some time to sit and listen to the man, as he’s expressed a desire to tell me why he’s on his way to Quebec. After having served as a soldier for some time, he grew tired of feeling as though he were living a double life, having to keep secrets from his loved ones so as to fulfill his duties. He then decided to leave the service, receiving a dishonorable discharge and losing nearly everything he owned in the process. During his time of service, he lived in Quebec and met a young woman who befriended him and showed him that there was more to life than simply having money and material possessions. The two of them ended up in a relationship that was cut short because of his constant dedication to his duties, and she claimed that it had grown hard to trust him.)

Customer: “So, I’m heading back to Quebec to see her. I have nothing left to lose but her, and I’m going to take up a job as a mechanic, get a place for the two of us, and ask her to marry me.”

(We talk a bit more, and I tell him that, in the time I’ve spent listening and chatting with him, he seems like a very good person, and that giving up his pension and career in the service for this woman speaks very strongly about his character. After a while, he goes out to his truck, and returns with a coin.)

Customer: “I told them that I didn’t care. I told them that I was tired of living a lie. They laughed in my face and gave me this. They told me to find someone who gave a s***.”

(The customer hands me a foreign coin and smiles.)

Customer: “So those are the words I live by: ‘Find something to give a s*** about’.”

(As he walks to the door, he thanks me, and I wish him all the luck in the world. This night at work really emphasized two things for me: A little kindness goes a long way, and if you give a s*** about something, you won’t give up on it. Whoever you are, sir, I truly wish you the best. I hope that the woman you love sees just how much you care about her, and that the two of you can spend your lives together. And to the man who paid for his meal, I will never forget the kindness you offered to another in need.)

(I work in a call centre for a bank, and one of the security questions we use to verify cardholder identity is a memorable date. Some people try to get clever with you. I generally give them no reaction at all and just ask a different security question.)

Me: “Can I ask you to confirm your memorable date there for me sir?”

Customer: “Ah yes, June 9th, 1979. I met this lovely blonde woman in a bar in Soho, absolutely beautiful. She drank cocktails and we went back to mine and the things she could do kiddo, you could only imag—oh wait memorable date? Oh s***, I thought you meant…”

Me: “Ha, that’s alright, sir; do you have it there?”

Customer: “What’s your memorable date? You sound nice; you must have one.”

Me: “My boyfriend surprised me with a trip to Paris for my birthday last year. That was pretty memorable I guess.”

Customer: “Jeez, your generation sucks. Paris!? You can’t beat a roll in the hay in the back of a third hand car in Charing Cross. I’d show you that!”

(A co-worker and I are out to lunch on the weekend with our boss. We’re all really good friends and we are chatting with each other when we notice one of the waiters, who is thin and short, getting harassed by a group of teens.)

Rude Teen #1: “Haha, look at [waiter] f*** up like he always does!”

Rude Teen #2: “Ha! D*** f****t!”

(The waiter is doing a good job ignoring the rude teens, but it’s very obvious he’s feeling upset. He’s walking towards us when one of the teens trips the waiter. He falls face first into the food he is carrying.)

Rude Teen #1:*laughs hysterically* “Oops, don’t fall!”

(The waiter gets up and wipes his face off, but it’s very obvious that he is crying. Having been bullied myself for being gay and being appalled at what’s going on, I stand up and approach the table. Note, I’m 6’3″ and very strong. I stand in between the tables the kids are at and the waiter.)

Me: “Do we have a problem here?”

Rude Teen #2: “Mind your own business, man!”

Rude Teen #1: “Yeah, f*** off! This kid is a f****t anyways!”

Me: “I suggest you stop right now, or else…” *I push up my sleeve and flex* “…you all and I are going to have a problem.”

(The two teens slink down into their seats, and I walk the waiter over to his co-workers.)

Me:*to the waiter* “Hey, if anybody ever tries to harass you or hurt you again, call this number. I know what’s like for being bullied because you’re gay. Just remember: I’m here to help you.”

(I give the waiter my phone number. He hugs me and starts crying on my shoulder. While he is, the manager of the store comes by, and I explain the situation to him and point out the two teenagers. After the whole ordeal is done, the manager and the waiter come over to our table and give me a $100 gift card for helping them out. I tell them they don’t have to reward me for being a decent human being, but they keep continuing to offer it. Later that night I get a phone call from that waiter, but it wasn’t about being bullied. Eleven months later, I’m now engaged to the waiter I protected that day.)